Like Mother, Like Daughter
by Mara
Summary: Nikita finds out that her mother is a part of Section One.
1. Part I

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in this story, except I guess Nikita's mother and the terrorists. I'm really tired so that's all you're going to get out of me.

Author's Note: This makes a few references to the episode "Cat and Mouse", as well as my 'Contamination Trilogy'. The words in the '~'s are characters' thoughts. The only reason this is a two part story is because I couldn't fit all the text in one document ot upload.

Like Mother, Like Daughter- Part I

by Mara

Unlike other operatives, who rarely thought of their lives before Section, all Nikita DID was think about it. The thing she missed most were her family, her parents. Her father had died when she was little and her mother had remarried. They had disappeared when she was a teenager, but she never knew what exactly had happened to them. Nikita just assumed that they were dead. Her mother was a lot like her, warm and kind, but also realistic and strong. ~She would have made a great operative.~

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It was a beautiful Spring day. The air was warm, but not overly hot. For June it was a little nicer than usual, but Nikita didn't mind. She was walking down the street, looking into store windows for anything interesting. After over an hour of the same, she decided to look in one more shop, and if she didn't find anything, she was going to go home. It was early evening and she was starting to get hungry. Stopping at a cafe a few minutes from her apartment, Nikita decided to skip her usual and instead ordered chicken Parmesana with steamed vegetables. That had been her mother's favorite meal. For some reason, Nikita was thinking about her mother a lot recently. She thought it might have something to do with the feeling she had that something was wrong.

After finishing her meal, Nikita briskly walked the fifteen-minutes to get to Section. Crossing the courtyard, she came up right behind Birkoff. He must have been completely absorbed in thought that he didn't hear her coming or her heels clicking against the tile. 

"Birkoff?" Nikita's voice was soft, not wanting to startle him. His first reply was a quiet scream. She smiled a little. "Sorry, did I scare you?" Nikita tried to sound innocent, but couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice. 

Trying to regain his manhood, Birkoff denied it. "No. Not at all. I'm just a little...jumpy, that's all." He just stared at her for a moment, remembering what it had been like to be with her...sort of. Not too long ago, Nikita had been captured on a mission and replaced by someone who looked exactly like her, down to the last birthmark. The only thing was, no one knew it. Eventually, Michael figured it out, but only after Abby, Nikita's double, had slept with Birkoff. Ever since, he had been in love with Nikita. Most people could tell, but he liked to pretend that it was a secret.

"Could you do something for me?" She tried to make this easy for him. Nikita knew he had feelings for her after Abby, but she didn't know what to do about them.

He answered quickly. "Anything" Once again, he tried to save his pride. "...I mean, sure. What do you need?"

"I was wondering if you could run a search on Elizabeth Crandal." 

"Sure, no problem." Leaning over, her right hand on the desk next to Birkoff's computer, the other resting on her hip, Nikita turned her head to look at Walter. She smiled at him from across the room, saying hello. Birkoff typed in the name and was hitting enter, just as Nikita turned her attention back to the screen.

"Oh, wait, she wouldn't be in Section's files..." Her voice trailed off as a picture of her mother came up with a long list of data. "Oh, God. No." Nikita shook her head slightly and a few strands of her hair fell in Birkoff's face. Being so close to her was definitely turning him on, but she didn't seem to notice. "No." Spinning his chair around to face Nikita, he found himself at eye level with her breasts. Pushing the thoughts that arose to the back of his mind, he immediately became concerned for her.

"Nikita? Are you all right? Talk to me. Please." His voice grew desperate. Nikita just stared at the computer screen, her eyes wide, brimming with tears. She looked pale. "Nikita? I'm going to take you home. Do you want me to take you home?" No reply. Standing up, Birkoff's face brushed against her chest and his earlier thoughts came back. 

Taking her arm, he pulled her along beside him. Once he got her outside, with fresh air, Nikita seemed to regain a little bit of herself. She swallowed the emotion choking her throat and tears streamed down her face, but she didn't say a word. Her eyes stared straight ahead of her, unseeing, yet so full of pain. Birkoff's heart ached, knowing that she was hurting so much inside.

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Though he was smaller than she, Birkoff had no trouble lifting Nikita. By the time they had reached her apartment, Nikita was breathing normally, but her mind was still gone. All the way there, Birkoff asked her questions, but never got any responses. Inside the apartment, which Birkoff remembered well enough from when she had still been under surveillance, he tried to get her to climb the stairs, but she didn't seem to be able to.

"Okay, Nikita, don't slap me for anything that I'm about to do." His words were joking but he was really scared. Birkoff had seen operatives have nervous breakdown before, but Nikita is that last person he ever expected this from. Squatting down a little, he picked her up, as though she had twisted an ankle and couldn't walk. Slowly, not wanting to fall and hurt her, Birkoff carried Nikita up the stairs to her bedroom. Once inside, he set her down on her feet but didn't completely let go, wanting to make sure she could stand on her own. When he saw that she could, he just looked around awkwardly, a little embarrassed at being in this position. "Okay, I am a grown man. It's not like I haven't seen any of this before." Birkoff's nervous chatter did nothing to bring Nikita out of her shock.

Going over to the dresser, Birkoff pulled out the bottom drawer and looked to see if there were any sort of pajamas. Finding only lacy bras and panties, he closed it and opened the top drawer. There he found shirts. ~Doesn't she own anything that isn't tight with little spaghetti straps?~ His thoughts were more out of nervousness than irritation. Quickly grabbing a white shirt, he shut the drawer and pulled out the middle one. There he found a variety of pants and shorts. Absently taking out a pair of thin, blue an white plaid pants, he watched Nikita cry. Shaking himself from his obsession, Birkoff slammed the drawer shut in a futile effort to bring her back to reality.

"Nikita, please wake up. I won't know what's wrong with you unless you tell me." He said this even as he removed her jacket and tossed it on the bed. "Come back, Nikita. God, what's wrong with her? Okay, here goes nothing." Pulling her shirt over her head, Nikita's arms lifted, complying with Birkoff's actions, but her expression never changed. He quickly removed her bra and threw it on top of her shirt and jacket. Picking up the white shirt he had gotten from her dresser, Birkoff slipped it on. "Now THIS might be a little more difficult to accomplish. Nikita, are you sure you won't come back to me?" 

"Mommy." Nikita's voice was quiet, She sounded like a lost little girl, crying for her mother.

Birkoff immediately removed his hands from her skirt and looked into her eyes. "Nikita? Are you there?" He only saw more pain and fear than before. ~That's the first thing she's said since she asked me to run that check for her. What is it about that op that made her react like this? I'm going to find out. I have to figure out what's going on with her.~ He decided to give it one more try before removing the rest of her clothes. "Nikita, are you there?" Again, there was no answer. "Okay, I guess not." Unfastening the clasp on her skirt, Birkoff unzipped it and let it fall to the floor. "God, I wish you were letting me do this under different circumstances..." Bending down, he grabbed one leg and lifted it up, setting it down a few inches away. He did the same with the other leg until he could pick up her skirt and set it with her other clothes. Reaching for the blue and white pants, Birkoff knelt on the floor. "Nikita, can you lift your leg for me?" She did and he slipped one leg of the pajamas pants over one of HER legs and told her to set her foot back on the ground. "Nikita, can you lift your other leg for me?" Again, she obeyed him and again, he put her leg into the pajamas. "You can set it down now, Nikita." Pulling the pants up to her waist and loosely tied the drawstring, then proceeded to lead her to her bed. ~If I were a different kind of guy, this would be so perfect.~ 

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It had been a long night. Birkoff had sat in a chair by Nikita's bed for the last seven hours. Sometime in those seven hours, she had fallen asleep, and so had he. When he woke up, he found his head resting on the bed, next to her stomach. Standing up quickly, Birkoff leaned over Nikita and shook her, wondering if she was past her trauma. Her screaming was his answer. Her eyes were still closed and her words made no sense, so Birkoff assumed she was still asleep.

"Daddy, no! Don't leave me! Don't leave me! No!!!!!" The last 'no' was high and shrill, as though coming from a young child who didn't get her way and was in the midst of a tantrum. Nikita began to thrash about, tossing and turning until she touched Birkoff's skin. Feeling the warm flesh, she seized his arm and pulled him on top of her. She quieted for a moment, but when he struggled to get up, the screaming began again. "No, Daddy, please don't leave me. You can't leave me!" 

"Oh, God, she thinks I'm her father. Nikita! Nikita, wake up!" When he realized that wasn't working, Birkoff decided to try another tactic. Becoming very still, he whispered to her. "Nikita? Let Daddy sit here, next to you. Can you let me do that?"

"Daddy, where's Mommy. Don't leave until she gets here."

"I promise, I won't leave. I'll sit right here next to you." Nikita let go and began to tremble. Birkoff walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed up next to her. Keeping himself at least a few inches away, he reached over and took her left hand.

"Oh, Daddy. Please don't ever go away again." She seemed a little more calm, but there were tear streaks on her face and wet spots on her pillow. Nikita took Birkoff's hand in her own and drew it to her face. She rubbed her cheek against it softly. She couldn't imagine what this was doing to him physically.

"Nikita, I won't leave you. I promise. I'll stay as long as you want me to." The phone rang, but it wasn't Birkoff's, it was Nikita's. Her cell phone was in her jacket pocket, at the foot of the bed. Leaning forward to reach it, Birkoff realized that it was jut out of his grasp. Pulling away from Nikita, he grabbed the phone, just as she started to scream again. He flipped up the top. "Help. It's Birkoff. I'm in Nikita's apartment. There's something wrong with her-" The line clicked dead. He hoped that someone was coming. Nikita was still wailing at the top of her lungs. Sitting back against the wooden headboard, Birkoff gave her his hand once more and tried to wait patiently. Six minutes later, Michael and four other ops burst into Nikita's apartment. The noise scared her and she began to cling to Birkoff, pulling herself closer to him, burying her face in his chest.

"No, Daddy, don't let them take me! No!!!!!" Again, she sounded shrill and childish. Footsteps could be heard on the stairs and within seconds, Michael appeared in the doorway. The look in his face was one of jealousy, not concern. He obviously didn't understand what was going on.

"Shhh, Nikita, these are my friends. Shhh. Calm down, honey." Turning to Michael Birkoff gave him a pleading look. "Please, Michael, this ISN'T what it looks like. There's something wrong with her." Glancing at the clock on Nikita's beside table, which read 1:26, Birkoff started his explanation. "Yesterday evening, Nikita came in. She wanted me to get an operative's profile for her. When it came up, she froze. Her eyes were glazed over, she didn't say anything, she didn't even move. So I brought her back here and got her into bed- no, what I mean is that I put her in the bed and sat in that chair." Birkoff pointed with his left index finger to the chair on the other side of the bed. "Then, about ten minutes ago, she woke up. She was having a nightmare I guess. She wouldn't stop screaming for her mother, and then she started swinging her arms everywhere and kicking her feet. When her hand hit my arm, she grabbed it and pulled me to her, calling me her father, begging for me not to leave her. She let go of me, only because I told her I was going to walk around to the other side of the bed- that I wasn't going to leave her. Then the phone rang, and when I reached to get it, I had to pull away from her, and she started screaming again." Birkoff looked to Michael, hoping Michael believed him.

"She was screaming for her mother? Are you sure?" Michael wanted to be sure that's what Birkoff had said. 

"Believe me, I'm sure. Just help me!"

"Who's profile did you pull up?" Birkoff looked at him like he was insane.

"Does it matter?! Look at her! There's something seriously wrong with her!" Taking a deep breath, Birkoff answered Michael. "All right, I think it was Elizabeth Crandal. When I typed it in, Nikita started to say that she wouldn't be in Section's files, and when it came up, she turned into...well, this!"

~She knows. She knows what happened to her mother. Oh, God, how are we going to fix this?~

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Nikita was moved to a hospital room inside Section. There, Birkoff continued to sit with her. Whenever he tried to leave, she went ballistic. Finally, it got to the point where he had to go to the bathroom, BADLY.

"Nikita? Daddy has to go to the bathroom. Is that okay?"

"No, Daddy, please don't leave me." Standing just outside the clear plastic window between the hospital room and the rest of Section were Operations and Michael.

Turning to Operations, Birkoff asked for advice. "What do I do?"

"Go. She can't keep up the screaming for long." Operations hadn't heard Nikita scream before. Not like she did when Birkoff pulled his hand from hers. As soon as he let go of her, Birkoff sprinted from the room, trying to get back as soon as possible. The windows were thick, but not soundproof.

She heard the screaming in her office. Rising quickly from her chair, Madeline rushed toward the source, covering her ears as soon as she had left her office. Coming up to Operations and Michael, she saw that they, too, had placed their hands over their ears.

"What are you going to do about her?!" Madeline had to yell as loud as she could to be heard above Nikita's crying. Turning to look at the young woman, she saw tears flowing down Nikita's face.

"I don't know what we CAN do! Michael, go in there and hold her hand! See if that does any good!" Michael followed orders and entered Nikita's room. Approaching her, he thought his eardrums would burst. Quickly, he grabbed her hand, wanting her to be quiet. By holding her hand, the screams got quieter, but didn't go away. Birkoff walked in, rushed to her, and she stopped screaming completely. She just continues to cry and tell Birkoff how much she loved him and that she didn't want him to go away. Where was her mother?

"Nikita, your mother is coming. She'll be here soon. She loves you very much."

Operations had an idea. "Madeline..."

"Do you want me to go in there and pretend to be her mother?"

"It couldn't hurt. It might calm her further. We could give it a try."

"If you think it's best." Madeline calmly walked into the hospital room and stood next to Nikita, on the side opposite Birkoff. "Nikita?" She gently touched Nikita's lower arm.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Birkoff's warning came seconds too late.

"Mommy?" Nikita's face brightened. She grabbed Madeline's hand held it close to her heart. "Oh, Mommy, I knew you'd come! I knew you wouldn't leave me!" Pulling Madeline to her, Nikita hugged the woman, never letting go of Birkoff's hand. Tears of happiness replaced tears of fear streaming from Nikita's eyes. "I knew that they couldn't take you away from me! Oh, Mommy, they're bad, bad people. Don't let them take you!"

"What's she talking about?" Birkoff looked at Madeline accusingly. When she ignored his question, he turned to Operations and Michael. "What's she talking about?! You know more than you're telling me, don't you? What's going on here? Is Elizabeth Crandal her mother?" Birkoff had managed to piece the puzzle together at last. When they, too, refused to answer him, Birkoff began interrogating them. "That's it, isn't it? Nikita wanted to find out what had become of her mother, but she didn't know that her mother had been taken by Section! That's it!"

"Birkoff, I'm warning you. For your own good, stay out of this." Madeline's words were soft, as though she were truly worried about something other than Section One.


	2. Part II

Back in Operations' office, He, Madeline, and Michael sat around the rectangular table used for mission briefings to discuss Nikita.  
  
Michael spoke on her behalf, feeling that someone should. "I think we should have told her about her mother a long time ago. It would have prevented this whole situation."  
  
"I think he's right." Madeline's agreement surprised the two men, who waited for her to continue. "She might have gone off the deep end, but at least she wouldn't have reacted so strongly."  
  
"We did what we thought was best at the time. Her mother was captured before Nikita even came to Section. At that time you agreed with me that there was no logical reason for telling her." Operations tried his best to defend himself.  
  
"Yes, but I believe we made a mistake. The question is, what do we do NOW?"  
  
Michael spoke again, quietly, still thinking about what he was going to say next. "First, I think we need to bring her out of her delusion. Then we can go from there."  
  
"All right, then how do we do that?" Operations sounded as if it were a lost cause.  
  
As usual, Madeline was the voice of reason. "It's possible that she'll come out of it on her own." At that moment, the three heard the sound of her screams. Michael jumped up and ran to her, while Operations and Madeline followed a little more slowly. When he got there, Nikita was alone. He went in and took her hand, trying to calm her in any way he could. A moment later, Madeline walked in and assumed the role of "Mommy".  
  
"Nikita, Mommy's here. Hush now." It amazed Operations how much Madeline got into the role of Nikita's mother. Her voice was soft, her manner loving. In the moments he saw her with Nikita, Operations saw Madeline with the child she had lost long ago. "Nikita, darling, can you wake up?" Playing pretend, he even saw her smile. Birkoff ran into the room a few seconds later and stopped just before he ran into Michael.  
  
"Why did you leave her alone?" Michael was obviously upset that Birkoff had caused Nikita such pain, that he COULD cause her such pain.  
  
"I had to go again. The nurse gave me a lot of water." Birkoff was on the defensive and didn't appreciate Michael's accusations, or his jealousy. He was sure the others didn't see it, but being in love with Nikita himself, he saw Michael's jealousy as plainly as if there was a flashing neon sign above his head.  
  
"I'm sorry, Birkoff. It's just...that screaming..."  
  
"That's okay. I UNDERSTAND." He raised his eyebrows and Michael realized that he DID understand.  
  
"Nikita, honey, please wake-up. Can you wake up for Mommy? Nikita!" Madeline's voice grew panicked as Nikita's breathing became more and more labored.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Michael, too, sounded worried.  
  
"What's going on in there?" From the other side of the window, Operations wanted to know what was happening with Nikita. When he got no response, he went inside. Together with two nurses, the four onlookers tried to help Nikita. Suddenly her eyes snapped open, she gasped, and her breathing slowed.  
  
"Where am I? Oh, God, the hospital. Who's hurt?" The people around her began to laugh. It was Birkoff who finally answered her.  
  
"You are Nikita." He squeezed her hand and she became aware that she was clutching, not only his, but Madeline's.  
  
"I'm sorry." She let go of both of their hands. "I don't know..." Her voice trailed off as she remembered her mother's file and her nightmares. "Oh, God, no."  
  
"Nikita? Don't start that again. We can fix it. We'll find your mother. I'll help you in any way I can. I promise." Nikita sat up and shifted, putting her feet on the ground. For the first time, she noticed her clothes. She was in pajamas, not the skirt and blouse she had worn earlier.  
  
"What happened? How did I get in these clothes?" Birkoff blushed and stammered an explanation.  
  
"Well, when you went into your trance or whatever in the courtyard, I...I took you home...and I changed your clothes...I mean I've seen it all before...well, I mean Abby...and I didn't think-"  
  
"It's all right Birkoff. You've seen it all before. I understand." Her tone was understanding, but her eyes were far from it. Throwing herself at Operations, she knocked him to the ground and fell on top of him. She beat at him with her fists until Birkoff and Michael managed to pull her off.  
  
"I hate you! You took my mother from me! I hate you!" She screamed at him, violently, as though if she screamed enough, it would bring her mother back.  
  
"Nikita! Remember where you are!" Operations' voice was understanding, but forceful.  
  
"Just cancel me! You took my mother away from me!" Michael and Birkoff had to restrain her, keeping a tight hold of her arms, otherwise, she would attack Operations again. "What else can you do to me?!" Nikita's venom melted into sobs as she sank to the floor, holding her knees against her chest, crying. Seeing her in so much pain felt like someone had slowly driven a knife into Birkoff's heart and was twisting it, first one way, then the other. It was the most painful feeling in the world. He wondered if Michael felt the same way. Kneeling beside her, Birkoff took her in his arms and slowly rocked her back and forth, trying desperately to soothe her. Again burying her head in his chest, Nikita cried until she had no more tears, then picked herself up and let Birkoff take her home.  
  
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The sound of the door slamming shut woke Birkoff. Looking to the bed with big eyes, he realized that Nikita had left. Running down the stairs he threw open the door, only to find the hall empty. Stepping outside of the apartment, Birkoff closed the door behind him and ran all the way to Section.  
  
Out of breath, Birkoff grabbed Michael's shirt. "Where's Nikita?"  
  
"I thought you were staying with her." There was no mistaking the resentment in Michael's voice.  
  
"I fell asleep and I woke up when the door slammed. By then, she was gone. Have you seen her?"  
  
"She was at your computer a few minutes ago, then left."  
  
"Where did she go?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Okay, maybe whatever she pulled up is still there." Hurrying to his computer, Birkoff sat in his chair and pushed a button. The profile of Elizabeth Crandal came up. "God, are you sure she was at MY computer? Are you POSITIVE?"  
  
"Yes, why?"  
  
"She's gone after her mother."  
  
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Nikita looked at the locket her mother had given her for her tenth birthday. On the back was an inscription: 'to my beauty, Nikita'. Dropping the locket back against her chest, Nikita wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the task at hand. Walter had given her a small computer and she had found the floor plan of the building on Birkoff's computer. She had also run a SIM, to find out where was the most likely location that her mother would be held. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun. She had had to be careful not to wake him. Nikita had grabbed black leather pants, a black tank top, and a black jacket in the style of a high school letter jacket. Between the downloaded profile, the SIM, and the schematics of where she was being held, Nikita was confident that she could find her mother. Her death had never been confirmed, and, remembering Samoan, prayed that her mother might still be alive.  
  
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Michael spoke rationally. "If we tell Operations that Nikita's gone AWOL, she'll be canceled."  
  
"Then we can't do that."  
  
"We'll have to go after her ourselves." Michael's suggestion surprised Birkoff but he quickly agreed.  
  
After talking to Walter, the two knew what Nikita had checked out and Michael got weapons while Birkoff downloaded the building schematics and ran a few SIMs. Within ten minutes, they were on their way to Burma.  
  
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Just outside the location's perimeter, Nikita down and ran a SIM to find the best point of entrance (POE). Moving quietly, Nikita braced herself for the worst. KNOWING that her mother was dead would be better than wondering for the rest of her life, she reminded herself. As she mentally reviewed her plan in her mind, Nikita's thoughts were interrupted by a sound behind her. Still holding her gun, she turned, rolling onto her back and pointing her gun at the figures behind her.  
  
"Nikita! It's us!" Birkoff's voice was a harsh whisper as her ran to her and once again knelt by her side. It ripped Michael apart inside that Birkoff could run to her side and he could not.  
  
She looked at them as if they might grab her and drag her back at any moment. "What do you want?"  
  
"We want to help you." She was surprised to hear that, coming from Michael. "Birkoff worked up a mission profile on the way over here. You can take point, and we'll just follow close behind, making sure that any obstacles are taken care of."  
  
"I did a SIM, to find out where your mother might be, and where the best POE is." He looked around and laughed softly. "But I guess you did, too."  
  
"Let's go." Nikita wasn't up for chatter or jokes- she just wanted to find her mother. Michael took her hand and helped her up, then handed her a com unit.  
  
"Frequency A." She adjusted it to the proper channel and snuck up to the building. They had two hours before the sun would come up.  
  
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"Go to hell." Elizabeth Crandal spat at the man in front of her. A swift movement on the part of her captor brought Elizabeth's cheek into contact with his palm. He hit her hard enough to make a sound, but not hard enough to make her beg. Doing what she always did when she was about to be beaten, Elizabeth closed her eyes and went deep inside her mind. Mostly, she thought of her daughter, all alone and abandoned somewhere. ~God, Nikita, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I had to leave you. I love you, Baby.~ From where she was, the blows to her body didn't hurt Elizabeth at all. The strength of her body was surpassed only by that of her heart and her will.  
  
While her mother was being beaten, Nikita was entering the large, tan building. Stepping inside behind Michael, who had insisted on going in first, Nikita decided to let Michael take point until they reached the third floor and followed him down the hall. If any guards snuck up on them, Michael wanted to be sure he got to them before they could get to Nikita. Proceeding down the hall, Michael went up the stairs, turned left, and came to another set of stairs. Going up those as well, he glanced behind him at Nikita and Birkoff, making sure they were all right.  
  
"Michael, I'm taking point now."  
  
"Nikita..." Michael began, but there was no arguing with her.  
  
"Michael, don't. I was going to find my mother, with or WITHOUT your help. I have to do this my way." He stepped back against the wall, letting her pass, then took up position behind her.  
  
Nikita heard noises coming from the third door on the right. That was where her mother was supposed to be. Running down the hall on her toes to avoid being heard, Nikita pressed herself against the wall. Pivoting on her right foot, Nikita swung herself around to look through the glass pane on the door. What she saw almost killed her right there. Inside was her mother, being hit again and again by a man. Not hesitating for even a split second, Nikita kicked the door handle and the door swung open, catching the terrorist interrogator off guard. Putting a bullet in his heart, Nikita ran to untie her mother while Michael and Birkoff stood outside, keeping the path clear. Heading for the door, half carrying, half dragging her mother, Nikita heard three more shots being fired.  
  
"Michael, is it clear?"  
  
"For now. Hurry."  
  
"Mom?" Nikita looked at her mother with tears in her eyes. "I'm getting you out of here. Can you jump?" When her mother didn't move, Nikita hoisted her onto her back and pulled both of her mother's arms over her head, holding them with her left hand while keeping her gun ready in her right. "Okay, I've got her, let's go." Elizabeth was still inside her own mind, aware of what was going on, but unable to bring herself back. Coming out of her own mind took time and effort. Time and effort that she couldn't muster at the moment.  
  
Running down the stairs, Nikita followed Michael and was followed by Birkoff. It was sweet that they were trying to protect her, but it was getting annoying. She just wanted to protect her mother.  
  
"Birkoff, here." Nikita put her mother on Birkoff's back. "Carry her, I'll follow you, you follow Michael." In this way, Nikita felt she had a better chance of keeping her mother safe.  
  
Eleven more terrorists had been taken out before Michael, Birkoff, Nikita, and her mother reached their POE. Opening the door, Michael held it open for Birkoff and Nikita. Once they were clear, he let go and it quickly swung shut behind them. It had been decided ahead of time, much to Birkoff's irritation, that Michael would ride in the transport with Nikita and her mother back to Section, while HE would drive the jeep Nikita had taken.  
  
A few feet outside the door, a sniper on the roof fired a shot and got Nikita's mother in the lower back. She moaned as the bullet pierced her flesh and the blood poured down her back, onto Birkoff's leg.  
  
"Nikita? I think she was hit."  
  
"Oh, God, no. Not when I've come so close." She couldn't hide the tears in her voice. "You can't leave me now! You can't die! I won't LET you die!" Michael was shocked that what Nikita said to her mother was exactly what he had said to HER when she was sick with India. He briefly wondered if she had actually heard what he said.  
  
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Nikita sat my her mother's bed in the hospital. She had sat there for three days. Her mother drifted in and out of consciousness, seemingly not aware of anything. Operations, Michael, Birkoff, and Madeline watched from the other side of the window.  
  
~She wasn't supposed to hang on THIS long. So this is where Nikita inherited her fire.~ Michael's thoughts were saddened by the fact that he felt her pain as deeply as if it were his own.  
  
"Nikita?" She was startled to hear her mother calling her name. Nikita's face brightened as she looked down at her mother.  
  
"I'm so glad you're awake. There's so much I want to tell you."  
  
"Me first. I love you, and I'm so sorry I had to leave you. I'm so sorry that they brought you here, to this place."  
  
"It's okay Mom. You couldn't do anything about it. It's not your fault...I love you, Mom."  
  
Her mother gasped. "Nikita..."  
  
"No...NO!" Nikita buried her head in her mother's sheets and sobbed for hours. Elizabeth Crandal died calling her daughter's name.  
  
Three and a half hours after Nikita's mother died, Michael came in to comfort Nikita. He put a hand on her shoulder and she stood up, turning around to face him. He'd never seen her eyes so red from crying. He pulled her to him and cradled her head in his left hand, pulling it to his shoulder, letting her cry. For him, it was nice to be able to hold her, even if it was because her mother had died. In a way, he knew what she was going through. It had been the same for him with Samoan. He had felt like he was falling apart inside. To think she was dead for years, only to find her and WATCH her die. It leaves the most horrible sense of loss and emptiness.  
  
"Thank you, Michael. Thank you for being here for me."  
  
He whispered softly in her ear. "Shhh, just cry. Let out all the pain. I'll always be here for you. Always"  
  
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For the next few days, Nikita sat in her apartment. She didn't eat, she just slept and cried. Michael and Birkoff both came by, and Michael tried to comfort her again but she completely ignored them. It wasn't until Madeline visited her that Nikita began to come out of her inner Hell.  
  
Madeline sat on Nikita's bed next to the disturbed young woman. Nikita resumed her position from the hospital, legs pressed against her chest. "Nikita? Can I tell you something?" Like all the others, she received no answer. "Did you know that my mother died? She died a few days ago. She's been sick for a while. I got to see her once. It was the first time in over ten years. I feel so much pain right now. I wanted to be with her so badly, but I couldn't. Do you remember your delusion? I pretended to be your mother. Did you know I have a daughter? She's somewhere, out there." Madeline stared at the window. "I had to leave her, so she could have a real life, just like your mother did for you." Nikita leaned over and put her head in Madeline's lap like a young girl. Madeline smiled an petted Nikita's hair, as though she really WERE the woman's mother.  
  
Nikita spoke for the first time in days. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome." The two of them just stayed there, the one crying away her pain while the other stroked her hair. This was an experience Nikita would never forget. In a single week, she had learned that Madeline had a heart, Birkoff had dignity, Michael had compassion; she had found her mother and lost her mother. No matter WHAT happened, she would never forgive Operations for keeping her mother's past from her. Never. 


End file.
